Junk Driving…

Pulled over, know not what I did,

Looked over, by a cop name of Sid,

Decision made, didn’t like he did my car,

Said I was pulled over for junk driving,

A piece of junk like that belonged in a junkyard…

Fenders falling off, but officer only on one side,

Tires bald, but again, only the front ones, I wouldn’t have lied,

Windshield cracked, missing the rear window, in a fit he did fly,

No license, registration, or insurance card, think I will cry…

He wants to impound my classic, my baby, my beautiful clunker,

Many miles it has seen, 500 thousand, behind the wheel I have to hunker,

Not everyone can see me, I am proud of my ride,

Just the seat back is broken and I lost my cement brick, but I can abide…

The radio does too work, officer Sid, all you got to do is hold the button in,

Then stick your hand out the window and twist it around,

Directional is my antenna, unless I point towards the ground,

Nothing but static then, but that is better than no sound…

Please officer, I am a good driver, just a little short on cents,

Not enough have I to buy the stuff that makes all the sense,

Oh no, here comes the tow truck, please treat her with respect,

She has been around longer than both of us in circumspect…

Oh damn, there goes that bumper again,

Don’t worry; I got duct tape here in the trunk,

Oops I forgot, the trunk has a hole,

Can see right through, my tape must have rolled…

Fare the well, my beautiful old wreck of old,

You have served me most amicably, I will never forget,

All the times we had, all the girls we did get,

As the back seat has of late seen all the action,

What a shame it fell through to the road,

Oh that last girl she fell through too,

Who cares though she looked like a toad…

                © ~ poppywrittED  7/21/04